


Harry Potter and His Lost Soul

by hannamagryan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Broken Harry, Gen, Post-Prisoner of Azkaban, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannamagryan/pseuds/hannamagryan
Summary: And here's another Harry Potter fanfic, because even after 20 years, you can never get enough of them ! This is my AU of what happened between PoA and GoF. Harry suffers from ptsd and bipolar I and his friends and family try to help the Boy Who Lived.All characters belong to good old (not literally) J.K. Rowling.I acknowledge the fact that having mental disorders is not a joke nor something to romanticize about.Enjoy this mildly dark story. :)





	1. Dissillusions

**Author's Note:**

> And here's another Harry Potter fanfic, because even after 20 years, you can never get enough of them ! This is my AU of what happened between PoA and GoF. Harry suffers from ptsd and bipolar I and his friends and family try to help the Boy Who Lived.  
> All characters belong to good old (not literally) J.K. Rowling.  
> I acknowledge the fact that having mental disorders is not a joke nor something to romanticize about.  
> Enjoy this mildly dark story. :)

He finally sat down on his bed with an exhausted sigh. He had finally managed to scrub the toilet clean for Aunt Petunia's liking, which was, in fact, high quality. His arms ached from having to scrub endlessly and aggressively. 

He stared out his window and stared longingly at the setting sun falling behind the hills in Little Whinging. He wished he could just disappear with it, being in an endless state of bliss, but what he got instead was hunger, thirst, hate, despair and isolation. He hadn't heard from Ron or Hermione or even anyone in the Wizarding world for over a week and it was driving him mental. All he wanted was to know that they were still out there for him, caring for him.

To ignore the ball in his throat, he stood up and looked up and down the road from his window. Neighbours were taking their trash outside and greeting each other, pausing for amiable gossip. A young woman and man were walking their black bulldog down the street and with a pang of sadness, Harry was forced to think only about Sirius.

Harry had sent out Hedwig ago to deliver his letter to Sirius in which he wrote about his isolation from everyone, his want to return to Hogwarts and how much work he had to do everyday. Obviously he tried not to make himself seen as the victim, as he realised Sirius must be having a hard time himself, trying to find a safe area and hiding from the Ministry of Magic. 

Although Harry didn't wish to think ill of Sirius, especially since he felt a certain degree of affection towards him, he couldn't forget Sirius' promise of living with him and spending his holidays with him in his house. Spending luxurious hours in pajamas strolling through Sirius' house, not having to worry about a thing, being able to eat delicious dinners and have some great banter with his godfather. Instead, Harry was stuck with his abusive aunt and uncle (and bully cousin). 

Harry tried to banish the melancholy thoughts and focusing getting rest before his uncle would bang on his door to wake him up and make breakfast. He got under his covers after setting his glasses on his bedside table and looking fondly at the picture of his parents laughing and being happy. With their image carved into Harry's brain, he put his head on the pillow and tried to fall asleep. 

_A piercing scream seemed to vibrate through his bones, causing him to feel as though he was being ripped apart. His heart started beating faster and faster until it felt like it would explode. His scar prickled and his head felt heavy and clouded his thoughts. All he could see was a dark blue sky, filled with Dementors, ready to give him the final Kiss. He sped past them, but unfortunately felt their emptiness and dread. Next thing he knew he was in a dark room, with a stool in front of him. He looked up to see his destination; the beloved noose. He screamed at his legs to stop, but they involuntarily climbed onto the stool. His arms were reaching for the noose while his mind screeched otherwise, until everything stopped when he heard a faint cry: “Harry!” He wanted to look for the source, but everything slowly start to move again. Head pounding, arms reaching, Harry couldn't hear the cries anymore and was awaiting the next sensation of-_

“Get up boy! Don't make me force you up!”

Harry lifted his upper body in a rush. His head felt fuzzy and felt drained of all energy. At first he didn't understand what was going on, but when he reached for his glasses did he actually take in what his uncle was hissing menacingly. “If you're not downstairs in a minute, I swear you will regret everything!”

After the sound of footsteps had disappeared, Harry raced downstairs, making sure his appearance was not revolting and made him appear presentable. As he skipped down the stairs swiftly, he was feeling feeble and weak. This was one of his reoccurring nightmares that just would not leave him alone. He didn't like to fall asleep because he was scared of experiencing the horrific nightmare; on the other hand, if he didn't fall asleep he would be so sleep deprived and face horrible consequences from the Dursleys.

Harry stepped into the kitchen to see a loaf of bread, cheese slices, uncooked bacon and several toppings on a counter by the stove. Uncle Vernon was sitting down by the breakfast table drinking his coffee while Aunt Petunia was flicking through a home design magazine. 

“Right, boy, make us grilled cheese sandwiches with bacon. And make it fast; I need to be at work soon,” Vernon growled. “Yes Uncle Vernon,” Harry replied meekly. He got to cooking to make sure that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia didn't have a reason to make him do more work or even receive a beating.

It was a Thursday, and Thursdays usually had no meaning to Harry whatsoever (seeing as it was summer holiday and Dudley had a friend over almost everyday, making a racket while they played video games) but Harry's mood uplifted when he saw the calendar over the counter. On it, was written with a delicate handwriting: "Diddykins Dentist 12:00".

Harry continued cooking with a better feeling than before, because he knew that no one would be in the house for hours, which gave him plenty of time to browse the television, sneak some food from the fridge and have a go at Dudley's computer. He was just serving a grilled cheese to Petunia when she snapped suddenly: “Since I will be out of the house with Dudley, I have made you a to-do list that's in the living room. Make sure you have done  _everything_ before we get back or else.”

Harry nodded silently. She didn't have to finish her sentence as Harry knew what the "else" was. Skipped meals, locked in room, Vernon's belt or nights in his cupboard again. 

Vernon had finished his meal and left to work, Petunia did some garden work and finally left with Dudley in tow (with a contempt expression towards Harry) and Harry was alone. He had already started on his work list; he was mending a kitchen cupboard after which he would have to clean the toilet (again, Harry thought annoyed), dust the living room, vacuum Petunia and Vernon's room and scrub the kitchen floor.

Harry somehow hated the times alone, because while cleaning, his thoughts would start racing away, making him think of everything over and over again. It was nice in some manner; he relived those long nights he spent with Ron and Hermione by the Gryffindor common room's fireplace laughing about Ron's impersonation of Professor Sprout, Flitwick and Snape. 

But with those memories, came the heart wrenching thought of how Ron and Hermione still hadn't sent a letter back to him, how they seemed not to want to communicate with him or even try to get him out of the house like they did in the second year. Experiencing the isolation of letters before his second year was hard enough on him, feeling the emotions on repeat were even worse. It caused him to feel unwanted and estrangement. It hurt even worse, because he knew that Ron would be spending the time of his life playing Quidditch with Fred and George and little Ginny watching beneath them. Hermione would be reading more about the up-coming school year and have picnics with her loving parents like she had told him about once. 

Harry felt so left out, knowing he would never be able to live those heartwarming memories with his own parents or maybe even siblings. His parents who loved him so much were gone, with Harry having no recollection of them. Sirius, his only caring family left, was on the run and not responding to his letters and now his only true friends were ditching him. Harry hadn't even heard from Lupin since the end of the school year. He wanted to yell in despair and agony, but his energy levels were so low in the recent times he couldn't force himself to even do that. Maybe it was because of his lack of food, lack of sunlight or overwhelming mental state. Harry didn't even know why his mind always was trying to find the worst explanation for every situation; the thoughts were just coming to him naturally.

Harry had finished fixing the cupboard and started on the kitchen floor. As he scrubbed, he saw his reflection too many times for his liking which somehow aggravated him and anger pulsed through his veins. He was in such a fury he didn't realise he cut his forearm on a nail that was dangerously poking out of the sideboard. His blood flowed onto the kitchen floor, forming a scarlet red pool. The cut was not deep and not too painful. But the pain that was there... Harry wanted to punch himself for thinking it, but he  _enjoyed it_. It caused a momentary bliss, and escape that he so desperately needed. 

He tried to ignore that sensation and rummaged for a plaster in the emergency kit in the kitchen. Luckily, he thought to himself, that the Dursleys never use that kit anyway, so they wouldn't know that Harry used something. He finished his chores with time to sneak some crisps from the larder, make himself a ham and cheese sandwich and watch some television in peace. But.. somehow, Harry felt unsettled. He should be enjoying - to some extent - the peace he had, the freedom he had, but instead he felt even more trapped than usual. He fidgeted with his thumbs and ran his hand through his hair way too many times than usual. Harry was so distracted that he didn't even watch the what was on the television, but merely gazed dreamily through the window.

He felt unusually jumpy, anxious and a certain amount of worthlessness. It was infuriating. He gazed down at his bandaged hand and was seemingly longing for that bliss that he had experienced. He shook his head violently, as if he was trying to shake that thought physically out of his ear. He switched the television off and wandered off upstairs, conflicted. As he reached his door he heard a familiar scuttling noise, a noise he had been dying to hear. He rushed to his window and let his owl in through the window. Hedwig automatically flew onto her cage and shook her wings briefly. There was a little parchment tied to her right leg. 

Harry shut his window and gave Hedwig a few strokes before taking the parchment off her leg. It read:

_Harry,_

_It's good to hear from you. I'm sorry about your aunt and uncle, I never liked the buggers. Try to manage. I know the feeling of missing Hogwarts, I've been there. You should ask your friend Ronald Weasley if you could spend time with him for the summer._

_Take care Harry, don't do anything I would._

_Padfoot_

Harry stared at the small paper and his vision became blurry with tears. This was all he got? After all this time, when Sirius has been his light in the dark tunnel, when he usually receives letters three times longer than this, this is what he gets? Harry crumpled the letter with his fist and remember that Ron was actually going to be spending the end of his summer at the Quidditch World Cup with his family. After hearing nothing from him, he dismissed the thought of being able to spend some of his holiday with his best friend. It made him think, did his best friend even want to see him?

An overwhelming feeling surfaced, and Harry angrily threw the paper at the wall, kicked his bureau and fell onto his bed with such a rage, he didn't know what to do. He turned to face his bed sheet and allowed himself to cry, feeling weaker by the second. He was distraught, angry, sorrow and, he finally realised what the odd sensation was before, depressed. Deeply depressed. 

Before he could be caught up in his misery, he heard the front door slam shut and Dudley's piggish voice mumbling in the hallway. He figured he should go down to greet his aunt and cousin and so he wiped his tears on his shaggy blanket that was pushed into a ball against the wall. The rest of his day went as per usual; everyone ignored him until they ordered him to make dinner or do something beneficial for them. 

Days past with Harry in dismal state , his mood constantly declining as he received nothing from the Wizarding world. Not only that, but his nightmares were become more severe as he heard his dying mother's scream too often, seeing the dementors flying towards him and his body feeling as though it was on fire. 

There was a certain occasion that really affected Harry, causing him to crack. It was a Sunday, a week and a few days since his hand being cut on the nail in the kitchen (Petunia saw the nail and commanded Harry to repair the sideboard) and Harry had been able to successfully retain himself from inflicting himself with a sharp object. He had been able to keep the thought out of his head until it happened again. 

The Dursleys' had just finished eating their Sunday roast and Harry had to clean up their feast (only being able to eat one Yorkshire pudding with gravy). Harry was washing the dishes in the sink while the rest of the family retired to the living room to watch some television. Harry's mind started racing one again, filling with disappointment of his lack of communication and started imagining the worst scenarios possible. Before he realised, he had stabbed his hand with the carving knife and it started to bleed. 

The sensation Harry had been obviously avoiding returned. As his blood oozed into the soapy water with some utensils still floating gently on the bottom of the sink, Harry couldn't help but close his eyes with satisfaction. The blissful moment was interrupted by Vernon's gruff voice: "Are you done yet, boy?"

Harry fumbled with the knife and placed a few paper towels on his wound and mumble that he would be done soon. Harry tried to concentrate on not hurting himself again, but all he could think of was the sharp edge of the carving knife. Once he was done, Harry sneakily pocketed one of the smallest and sharpest knives he could find. He wanted to do some experimenting.

Before he could leave the kitchen into the hallway and dash up the stairs, Petunia's screamed filled the air, shrieking and causing Harry to startle. Petunia was standing by the island and was looking down with wide eyes and the droplet of blood on the floor. Vernon rushed to her side and saw the stain. His face turned an odd purple colour, fading from his neck to his forehead. He turned to look hand Harry, with fury in his eyes, a killer's stare. 

"YOU! RUINING OUR HOUSE!" He leaped at Harry and caught his arm before Harry was able to slip away. He dragged him into the hallway aggressively and started to attack Harry. He wiped off his belt and hit Harry with it, on his back, arms and anywhere possible. Harry screamed in pain, but Vernon's hand moved over his mouth and grabbed tight. Tears swelled up in Harry's eyes. The pain continued and felt that it would never stop. After a few more hits, Vernon took a step back, huffing in utter rage. "Go. To. Your. Room. AND STAY THERE YOU WASTE OF SPACE!" he yelled.

Harry scrambled up the stairs and ran into his room. He fell onto the bed but just and just managed to prevent his scream. His entire body was in pain, just like he had felt in his latest nightmare. He wanted to die. He really did. He couldn't bear living with these vicious people anymore, even if he was to live in the streets in the rain, snow or heat wave. He took the knife out of his pocket and saw a half of his face on the reflection. It was red all over, with dents where Vernon's nails scratched into his face. He decided then and there what he was going to do. He stood up gently to minimize his pain. He walked over to Hedwig who was starting at him intently. "Go to Sirius. Go to stay with him. I can't help you. I'm a mess, Hedwig. Go to Sirius," Harry managed to say as he opened Hedwig's cage and led her to the window.

The snowy owl stayed on Harry's arm, not taking the initiative. Harry shook his arm roughly. "Go, Hedwig! Let go and fly away!" He growled. Hedwig finally let go, and with a small squeak, flew into the the evening sun. Harry glared at Hedwig, envious of her freedom. Her possibility to leave, but then Harry remembered his plan and grabbed a bag from his cupboard, filled it with clothes, a few books and his wand. 

 _This is it,_ Harry thought,  _here I go. '_

 

 

It was a chilly morning when Sirius woke up. Hidden deep in a forest in god knows where, he stood up to stretch his body. Buckbeak was resting peacefully beside a tree near Sirius. It had just been flying for a considerable amount of time, so Sirius decided to let it sleep long. He wasn't even sure where they would head off to next as he had no clue where they were now. His stomach grumbled loudly and Sirius groaned and slid down a tree. He was starving; famished. All he wanted was a decent meal, something to stick your teeth into, but all he had gotten were berries and scraps that people gave him when he changed into the sweet, little dog. It was risk going in front of people - even as an Animagus - but risk is what Sirius Black was all about.

As he decided to go for a scavenging round of the forest, he started thinking about the last letter he sent via Hedwig to Harry. Harry had complained about his aunt and uncle being vicious towards Harry and that thought made Sirius' blood boil. _Not on my watch_ _,_ he thought sincerely _, will James' son have to suffer. Especially not a boy as great as Harry._ He was a little worried for Harry nevertheless, there was something about the letters that just. . . . didn't seem quite right. He tried to ask Remus about it in a letter, but all he did was console him and say that Harry was a teen and that's how teens act sometimes. Distant.

But once Sirius saw clearly a snowy white owl emerge through the trees, flying gracefully towards hims, did he realise something was wrong. Hedwig soared towards him and perched on his shoulder. "What are you doing here?" Sirius asked when he noticed there was no letter attached to her. She looked into his eyes with a curiosity and also a sense of dread. It made Sirius uneasy. Why would Hedwig be here? Harry couldn't have told her to be here, could he? Why would he? What on earth was he doing?

The answer struck him like a dagger in the heart. He was doing something that Sirius himself had done as a teenager; running away from home.


	2. Support

Sirius sat on an oddly shaped boulder, staring at his feathery friend which stared at him. Sirius was shaken, ideas and thoughts filling his head and none of them pleasant. Harry couldn't have run away from home and wouldn't have. Sure, he had complained about his aunt and uncle (and pig-like cousin) but it couldn't have been enough to make Harry leave. Sirius wasn't even sure that he had run away and was just assuming based on what he had personally been through. He had run away from home as a young lad and done nearly the same as what Harry had done; left a object as a message for someone. Sirius had given his honorary Black family pendant to Regulus before he escaped to the Potters' house. 

"Tell me Hedwig," Sirius mumbled, "what's happened to Harry? Where  _is_ he?" Hedwig continued to stare with his gleaming eyes into Sirius'. "What has he gone to do?"

 _I need to know he's okay,_ Sirius thought with determined haste,  _but I can't go near civilization. . . . what to do?_ It was as though a light bulb turned on in his head. Of course he couldn't go, but someone else could. Someone he trusted with his life. "Hedwig," Sirius said, "go to Remus Lupin with this paper." Sirius had taken out a pocket notebook with a scrubby little pencil and jotted down a few words. He scrolled it up and placed it under Hedwig's foot. "Take it to him and be quick about it. For Harry's sake."

Within a second, the white owl departed and flew into the sky at such a speed Sirius didn't know was possible, but being left there with the sleeping Buckbeak and the silence surrounding him, with the occasional sound of the tree tops whistling with the wind, made him imagine the worst possible outcomes of what could happen. Harry could get killed in a muggle traffic accident, starve to death in a forest or even found by a Death Eater. The latter made his blood boil. He just couldn't what understand what had possibly gone through Harry's head.

Unless. . . it couldn't be. . . 

Sirius shuddered as he relieved the horrific memory in his head. 

He was sixteen, living with James and his parents. It was a sunny afternoon and they were all in the back garden. They had set up a small badminton court and James and Sirius were playing against each other. Sirius had never heard of such a game, but Lily Evans had talked about it to Remus once, telling how fun a muggle game was. Remus had mentioned it to the other marauders and James became obsessed. James figured, if Lily was ever playing this odd game in the field at Hogwarts, he could join her and impress her with his muggle knowledge and skill. Sirius - obviously - agreed to help James tone his skill and James' parents found the game exciting to watch. Unfortunately, the boys weren't the best at playing.

"James," Sirius panted, pushing his black hair behind his ear, "how are you ever going to get better at this game when you keep complaining how hard it is?" James, from the other side of the court pouted like a baby and his glasses fell forwards. Sirius laughed and threw the shuttlecock into the air and hit it perfectly with the racket. James lunged for it and the shuttlecock hit the edge of the racket and ricocheted onto the ground. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter laughed and clapped for Sirius. Sirius took a bow dramatically as though he was being awarded an honorary medal. 

James looked deflated and let his racket drop. "I'm going to take a break," he muttered and sulked indoors. Everyone watched him go inside and shut the terrace door. His parents looked at each other sympathetically at each other and Euphemia shook her head when Sirius was going to head after James. "Give him some time and he'll get over it. He's more humble than proud."

"I'll play against you, Sirius," Fleamont grinned, lifting the general mood. He snatched the racket than James had dropped and twisted it around in his hand. "I'm not an expert at this game in the slightest, but I'll give it a shot!" 

Euphemia laughed when Fleamont did some quick moves from right to left as a warm up. "Well would you look at that, you're actually exercising," she said cheekily and made Sirius laugh gently. "I'll go easy on you," Sirius winked and began to play.

Fleamont was not such a bad player overall, but he wasn't as flexible as Sirius was. They played a few games and Sirius tried to be nice and let Fleamont win a few games. The sun was beaming down on them and Sirius felt tired after playing for a long time. "Let's just call it a tie, I wasn't counting anyway," Sirius beamed as he shook hands with Fleamont in a professional manner. "I can top us up with butterbeer." Sirius had left his racket on the makeshift court and took James' parent's glasses. "Thank you, m'boy," Fleamont said with a smile. Before he entered the house and while Fleamont was getting comfortable on his beach chair, Euphemia whispered to Sirius: "Thanks for letting him win a few." 

Sirius smiled at her and entered the house. He walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a few butterbeer bottles and filled the existing glasses up. He had taken James' glass also to fill up and thought about going to him. He wouldn't let his best friend sulk and brood on his own. It didn't feel right that he enjoyed his time with his best friend's parents in their house, with their materials. He left the refilled glasses on the table and quietly walked up the stairs to James' room. He knocked on the door and called out for him. There was no reply, only the shuffling of some sheets and muffled sounds. "I'm coming in," Sirius stated and a voice came out harshly saying: "No! . . . N-No please, go down."

Sirius refused to leave James and stubbornly opened the door. His eyes opened up and felt his muscles stiffen. He was frozen, staring down at the sight before him. James' lower body was wrapped in his blue polka-dotted blanket and his body was upright against the wall. His face was damp with tears and eyes lined raw pink. His arms were shaking as he held a little pocketknife to his hand, carving small lines into his palm that were bright red and a few were leaking. His black hair was all over the place and glasses were tilted on his nose. He looked a mess. "I. . I-I'm not worth it. ." He whispered, a few tears falling from his eyes. "Why. . why would a girl like L-Lily want a boy like me? W-why do may parents even like me? I. . I fail at everything. . ." his voice trailed off.

Sirius instantly dashed to James' side and grabbed the pocketknife. He threw it across the room and took James into his embrace. James was numb and fell into Sirius' arms. Sirius put his face into James' messy hair and squeezed his eyes closed. He couldn't bear to see his best friend like this. It was so painful, so agonizing. "We all love you James," Sirius whispered, "your parents love you, their only son, your friends love you, especially me, you aren't a failure and it doesn't matter if you aren't incredible in badminton. Don't make Lily fall for a guy who isn't who she thinks he is. Yeah, it's great to impress her and trust me, I know what it's like to want to impress a girl, -" James snorted at that "- but she won't fall for you only because you're a god at a silly muggle sport. She'll fall for you even if you suck at every single muggle sport!"

There was a brief silence where James sniffed and stayed in Sirius' arms. Sirius prayed that his speech had affected James and brought him back to his normal self. James straightened and pulled himself away from Sirius' grasp. They were barely inches from each other and Sirius looked at James with affection. "You. . . love me?" James muttered jokingly with a girlish voice. Sirius rolled his eyes and pretend punched his friend's arm, pushing him gently to the side. "Prongs you dungbrain," he scoffed with a touch of fake annoyance. James laughed quietly and looked down at his palm. He stayed quiet for a few moments before nodding slowly. "You're right. . I just, I didn't feel like me for a bit. I just felt, well,  _worthless_. . . as if I'm just trying too hard for nothing. . ."

Sirius got off the bed and swiftly walked to the nearest bathroom, got a bandage roll and returned to James' room. He wrapped the bandage around James' limb hand slowly and told: "James Potter, you are certainly not worthless, a waste of space or a disappointment. You are the exact opposite and that's that. I won't hear any argument because it's all invalid since I'm the best and what I say goes and it's final."

Sirius finished wrapping James' hand and secured it. James got off his bed and gave Sirius a hug. Sirius hugged him back and pat his back meaningfully. "Thank you, Sirius," James claimed as he pulled back and readjusted his glasses. Sirius smiled softly. "Anytime, brother."

 

* * *

 

Sirius was pulled back into reality when Buckbeak had put his beak on Sirius' shoulder. It was warm and comforting, just what Sirius needed. Some comfort.  _If what James felt is happening to Harry now. . ._ Sirius squeezed his eyes shut in painful reminiscence.  _As godfather and guardian of James' son, I will not let anything happen to him, I swear to it._

 

* * *

 

Remus Lupin was walking down a road to his little terraced house. The sun was setting and he had just come back from a job interview from a wizarding chemist shop. He doubt that he would get the place as an assistant, even though the small man did say he was going to get back to him. Remus doubted that he would ever get a job because of who he was. The curse upon him really made his life a bitch, but he wasn't going to give up. He would just keep searching and searching until something showed up.  _I could've been a Hogwarts teacher still if Severus wasn't such a phony snitch,_ Remus thought angrily, but cooled down and regained his composure. He wouldn't let someone like Snivellius Snape ruin his life nor alter his mood. 

Remus opened the door and entered his cozy house. It was in a little village near a train station so he could get to London with train easily (if something was wrong with the Floo powder network which he used most) and it was near a forest, so when he transformed into a werewolf, he could go deep into the large forest and not have to worry about hurting anybody. The house was like most houses; beige wallpaper, framed doors, a puffy sofa and armchairs, simple kitchen, a useful study and guest rooms. The only thing special about his house was the magic aspect of it. The moving pictures, sweeping duster controlled by no-one and the large chopping knife cutting up some vegetables that Remus had put a timer for. 

He took off his coat, hung it up and shuffled into the living room. His decor in here was slightly darker in colour than the rest of his house but he liked it that way. A television sat on a low table against the wall, adjacent to the large hearth that stood magnificently. The furniture was arranged typically; seats in a square opposite the television, plants in corners of the room and photographs, paintings and pictures perched up on the wall.

He smiled at one of the photographs as he lay down on his sofa. It was of the marauders, a prime moment in the summer when they were young, happy and free. He and James were laughing at Peter and Sirius while they were putting on a 'cool guy' pose under their favourite tree. Remus' smile faded gradually as he remembered that one of his friends was dead, the other a fraud and the other on the run. It broke his heart, but for their sake ( _excluding Pettigrew_ , Remus thought with disgust) he would continue to live his life. 

An odd hooting noise came from outside his window and he turned his focus onto that. He saw that it was Hedwig - Harry's owl. Remus rose excitedly as he thought Harry had decided to make him his pen-pal. The thought touched his heart as he opened the window to let her fly in. She flew in and sat on the arm of the sofa. It had a scrawny looking paper attached to it's claw and Hedwig put that leg in front of the other in the air, waiting for Remus to take it. 

He took the paper and opened it up, only to see a scrubby handwriting.

 

 

> **MooNy**
> 
> **Meet me, caVe, Hogs _mea_ de, tomorrow niGHT at 19 O'cLock**
> 
> **Pad _foot_**

Remus stared at the paper in shock. This had come from Sirius rather than Harry, yet it was Harry's owl that delivered it. Remus thought that Harry had allowed Sirius to use it.  _But why does Sirius want to meet?_  The two friends had agreed to only meet if matters became desperate for either of them or if something important had happened, so nobody could trace Remus while he would go to meet a runaway convict. Remus knew that Sirius was still on the run and the Ministry of Magic hadn't stopped looking for him (although the effort on the search had decreased slightly), so what on earth could have happened? Remus clung to the paper with increasing worry and started to plan his future journey.

 

* * *

 

It was late afternoon and Remus could not wait any longer. He had been pacing in his study thinking about his meeting with Sirius and had a handy quick-quotes quill zooming away on a notepad when Remus audibly came up with different reasons for the meeting. Remus grabbed his long overcoat and headed towards his fireplace. He had made contact with Madame Rosmerta to ask if he could use Floo powder to get into Hogsmeade and she had agreed. Remus grabbed a handful of Floo powder, stepped in and shouted his destination. 

After a blurring, twisting sensation, Remus looked around to see he was in the backroom of The Three Broomsticks and stepped into the open. He walked into the main area and saw it was quite full, trolls and dwarfs arguing, different shop owners and villagers were mumbling with each other and having a good time. Remus walked to the bar and caught Madame Rosmerta's attention. "So you made it," she half-grinned while serving a tray of Firewhiskey. "I made it," Remus replied and tossed her a galleon. "Thanks for letting me use it."

He walked casually out of the pub and down the village. It was a clear yet chilly day and there seemed to be many people out. His heart sank a little when he was reminiscing his schoolboy days with his friends. They liked to go to The Three Broomsticks because the butterbeer was delicious and Sirius always flirted with Madame Rosmerta. Remus continued his way towards the more deserted part of the village and found his way into the cave. Here, Remus and his friends liked to hang out, gossip and plan silly pranks that they could do (obviously Remus wasn't thrilled, but joined in if the pranks didn't cause harm or were just utterly stupid).

He sat on a rock and looked at his watch. It was ten to seven and the area was completely silent. He waited and waited, straightened at the slightest sound but it was only the winding blowing dead leaves or an animal passing by. 

A black dog appeared and was panting with its tongue hanging from its mouth. Remus stood up and beamed at his friend. The dog instantly changed and turned into a raggedy, skinny man with shoulder-length black hair and a very happy grin on his face. "Remus," he said and embraced his friend. They stood there, hugging for the first time in a long time. Remus' heart was jumping out of his chest by being near Sirius. He had forgotten that feeling - dismissed it - but now that they were in close quarters, Remus couldn't help it.  "It's been too long, Padfoot," Remus said.

"Too long," Sirius agreed, but suddenly his expression changed from the happy one is was moments before to a more serious and more importantly, anxious facial expression, "and I know we agreed to meet very rarely but something has come up, or well, I think something has." 

He was running his hand through his hair and Remus knew that habit: Sirius was worried about something. 

"You haven't been followed or seen have you? Do you need something to protect you, I can cast a spell or-or do you need food? Water?" Remus hastily suggested. 

Sirius shook his head, the expression becoming worse. "I think something has happened to. . to Harry."

There was a brief silence. Remus didn't know what to think for a moment. With Sirius having to be constantly alert, did he just analyze a letter from Harry wrong, or is it because he hasn't gotten one for sometime? "What do you mean? Explain to me."

Sirius sat on a rock and signaled for Remus to sit on one that was next to him, just slightly lower down. "Well, I was just hiding with Buckbeak - the hippogriff, got it from Harry and Hermione - and, uh, Hedwig just flew from the sky and came to me. I thought it was another letter, but there was nothing attached to her. She just flew to me and I sort of wondered, why would Harry just send me his owl? It makes no sense, until I sort of thought that he may have, uh. . ." Sirius was finding it difficult to find the perfect words or even just say it, "ran from home."

Remus stared at Sirius with an odd expression that consisted of confusion, doubt and concern. "Why do you think that? I'm sure there's another explanation for this."

"Well, since I'm on the run and ministry workers are constantly on my ass," Sirius spat angrily, "I can't go on over to Little Whinging and see if he's with his aunt and uncle."

Remus stared at his angry friend. He couldn't imagine what he has been going through and to top it all off he now is worried for his godson's safety. "And I'm guessing this is where I come in? I go to see if Harry is alright?" Remus asked.

Sirius stared into Remus' green eyes and pleaded: "Can you? I can't."

Remus smiled. "Of course I'll go see that he's okay. He's a bright lad and a friend- you're his godfather but it doesn't mean I don't feel like I don't have any responsibility and I obviously want to know he's okay also."

Sirius immediately gave Remus an enormous hug and whispered his thanks. Sirius had no idea what he would do without Remus in his life; he was always there to keep him on course and not be too wild, to make sure he was doing things as he was supposed. Much like a guardian angel in many ways. Remus was always there for Sirius and he couldn't be more thankful for this unwilling werewolf being in his life.

 

* * *

  

It was a few days later since Remus and Sirius had had their conversation and now it was time for the plan to be taken into action. Remus stood outside Harry's relatives' house in the full sunshine. The plan was for Remus to pretend to be a doctor at the local hospital and say that it was time for Harry to have a check-up. Remus practiced his formalities, he was wearing his smart suit, hair lathered with gel and styled and had fake glasses sitting on his nose. He had a fake ID card with him, a first aid kit with some utensils in it and if necessary, had his wand at the ready to slow down the aunt's and uncle's actions while he searched the house for Harry. _It shouldn't be hard_ , Remus thought but couldn't control his nervous hand twitching.

He rang the doorbell and waited, jumping from one foot to the other, relieving his stress. The door swung open and there stood a relatively short man compared to Remus, with a pink tint on his face and his body was quite big. "Well?" the man croaked. "Who are you?

Remus took out his identification card with his 'credentials'. "My name is Jonathan Grove. I am a doctor at the Little Whinging Medical Center and I'm here to ask a certain -" he paused, took out a card and pretended to pronounce the name before saying it "-Mr. Harry Potter to come for a check up. It's been sometime since his last and as a part routine instructions, given from my superiors, I have come to book a time with him as-"

"He's not here," the man grumbled and his face turned a darker shade of pink. He too was now shuffling from foot to foot and was just as nervous as Remus was before he rang the doorbell. 

Remus tried his best to act professionally and as a friendly person, when deep down his insides had turn to rock. "He is not here at the present or does not reside here anymore?"

The man was moving his gaze from side-to-side and his anger seemed to suddenly rise out of nowhere and - visually - had to restrain it. "He-He's not here at this exact moment. We aren't bad people and let our-" there was a hesitation "-nephew disappear. People just don't disappear." The man laughed and it was very deep throttled and fake. 

Remus nodded his head slowly and began to realise that perhaps Sirius was right after all. "Alright. Thank you for your time Mr. Dursley. I'll be back soon to ask again or to save that trouble, you could head to the hospital first and just state you name and business to the receptionist and she'll help you book a time in an orderly fashion." 

Remus was about to turn around and leave but then a woman's voice called out from behind Vernon Dursley. "Oh, wait a second doctor, please!"

He turned his focus to the caller - an average height woman who was a little bit less plump than her husband but didn't lack any extra cellulite. She had an overly sweet manipulative act on, trying to influence Remus. "Since you're here now, could you possibly have a check on our son? He is quite poorly and we were going to head to the hospital soon, but since you're here now it would mean the world to us if you could just have a quick check on him?" Her smile was slightly crooked and she had her head slightly tilted to the side.

Remus gulped and forced himself to speak. "Ah, yes yes, of course. I'll be happy to check on him and, uh, fulfill my duty." Petunia Dursley's smile widened and made Remus uneasy. He stepped into the house and was directed upstairs by Petunia. She showed him into one of the rooms while Remus was looking frantically for signs of Harry being there. 

As he entered the room, a blonde piggish boy was sat upright and tucked in bed, looking weak and wary and overall, unattractive. Remus walked slowly to the boy's side and gave a forced smile. "My name is Jonathan Grove and I'm a doctor from the hospital. Your mother asked me to give you a quick diagnosis of your situation but off the bat it looks like a common cold." The boy nodded and the colour from his face was gone. He was emitting a stench of sweat and made Remus shudder in disgust.

He turned to look at the anxious Petunia who was standing by the door. "If you just give us a minute I can do this properly," he said and Petunia nodded and stepped outside and closed the door. He could sense that she was most probably standing outside the door waiting. 

"Now," Remus started and opened up his kit box, "if you could just give me a quick description of what you're feeling at the moment?" He took out some tools and since he had done some research of muggle ways to be a doctor or aid someone (he had taken courses in Muggle Studies but wanted a quick refresh), he knew what he was doing. To some extent. 

"I feel sick," the boy mumbled and looked dumbly at Remus. "Excellent - now, if you could open your mouth and say "aaaaah"." The boy made the sound weakly and Remus peered into his mouth with a stick and miniature flashlight. All he was was some swelling and at that moment he was cursing Sirius in his mind for making him do this. "Alright, great, now if you could just sit still for a moment," Remus said boldly and pretended to rummage through his kit. "You don't happen to know where your cousin is, do you Dudley?"

Dudley seemed to be using a lot of effort in closing and opening his eyes and breathing. "I think, Mummy and Daddy, or just Mummy, or Daddy, said he flew off. . ." he sneezed and used a tissue that looked already used, "I don't know, haven't seen him, but I don't think he actually flew off. . . he can't, impossible, flying is impossible," Dudley shook his head.

"We'll aren't you a bright one," Remus said and his suspicions were confirmed. Harry had bolted off and was most likely as far away as possible from Little Whinging. "Ah here it is, alright now brave one, I just need you to-" Remus stopped mid-sentence and cast a sleeping spell on Dudley who, not only did not have enough time to even react but fell asleep straight away and started to snore lightly. 

Remus got up with his kit and left the room to find Petunia standing nearby, pacing up and down the corridor. "He just has the common flu, it'll pass as long as he stays in bed, drinks water and has plenty to eat - healthy food, no fast food or processed foods. Oh, and here are some specific tablets. He can taken one every eight hours. It'll make him better," Remus said, trying to sound convincing (he had to mention the food part because he felt pity for the chubby boy). 

Petunia cried out in joy and Remus had to resist squeezing his eyes in pain. He would have wanted to say this whole trip was a waste and blame Sirius and possibly find a way for him to repay him, but the trip was exactly how Sirius said it would go. Harry wouldn't be there. It made Remus' heartbeat increase and he felt a small gaping hole of agony and loss inside him. He couldn't help sounding slightly rushed but he wanted to be as quick as possible to go to Hogwarts to have a meeting with everyone and inform about the situation.

Meanwhile, Petunia was giving her thanks and rambling on about how poorly Diddykins looked after he was out one day, and how she's been doing her best to take care of him despite-

"Despite what, Mrs. Dursley?" Remus urged when she had abruptly stopped talking. She played with her hair and she seemed to find it hurt to swallow. "Oh, des-despite Vernon having to go to work, and-and me going out to do some shopping and whatnot, you see? He has had to-to take care of himself sometimes," Petunia gave a nervous laugh.

"Ah yes, the busy life style, I see," Remus nodded and Petunia smiled once again, relieved, "but wouldn't Dudley's cousin, the, oh what's his name, pardon my forgetfulness, the Mr. Harry Potter, couldn't he also take care of his cousin?" He knew this was pushing it, but he had to be fully certain. And sadly, he was. Petunia's smiled dropped and her seemed to have straightened up and freeze like she was hit by Petrificus Totalus. 

"He-he doesn't want to get ill, it, it wouldn't be smart. . . you see?" She tried to explain pathetically. She quickly changed her body language and asked him to stay for tea and cake, but Remus declined and made up an excuse about other patients. 

He took his leave and walked down the street to take a nearby bus to the closest train station and then to London. He had to let everyone know what he knew and he had to do so quickly. As the sun was descending over the hills, Remus was already making a mental list of how to inform these certain people about having a meeting. 

 


End file.
